


Third Time's a Charm

by deansmultitudes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Canon Universe, Fluff, Gen, Season/Series 15, jack's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24254818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deansmultitudes/pseuds/deansmultitudes
Summary: Jack's third birthday goes a little different than he hoped it would, but it's not a bad birthday at all.
Relationships: Jack Kline & Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Third Time's a Charm

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my poor beta [tco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tco) ♥

Jack doesn't sleep much, but sometimes, he likes to sleep in late. Today's one of those days, though he never planned it that way. And if he knew that what he'd find when he, at last, leaves his room, was a disconcertingly quiet bunker, he'd make sure to get up early.

Today, of all days, he'd rather not stay in the bunker alone.

Not because he's afraid of being alone—though the threat of his grandfather coming back and finding him here isn't something he's looking forward to. It's simply that he doesn't want to spend this day alone.

Because today is his third birthday and, at last, things aren't terribly wrong. This time, he's not cooped up in his room, feeling powerless and helpless while everyone else does their best to find a way to rescue Dean, which is great. He's also not dead and stuck in the Empty, which is even better. So yes, given how terrible both his previous birthdays were, even the imminent threat of Chuck's return counts as good times.

And the good times he hoped to have today, not that he ever expected much of a celebration, it's not what the Winchesters do, but being surrounded by his family was enough—was perfect—for him. Especially after that tumultuous year or so, since he lost everyone and everything he'd had, including his soul. And his life. Yeah, this... really wasn't a fun year.

But even that doesn't seem to be happening. There's no Castiel in the library, no Sam in the war room, and no note left by them either. He's just about to lose his hope, his palm grazing the cell phone in his pocket, when he reaches the kitchen and finds Dean at the table.

Dean takes a sip of his coffee and shoots Jack a quick glance over the screen of the laptop.

"Mornin'," he says. "Just in time for breakfast."

"Good morning." Breakfast definitely sounds good, and Jack decides any questions can wait until he's got a plate full of food before him. Except when his eyes sweep the kitchen—the table, the stove, the counter—for any signs of breakfast, he finds nothing. "Where is it?"

"Well, milk's in the fridge, the cereal's on the shelf—" Dean answers surly, but there's something in his tone that Jack came to recognize as Dean messing with him.

"Got it," he says, walking over to the shelf, a small smile playing on his lips.

He glances over the row of colorful boxes and fishes out his favorites before moving on to the fridge.

"You know, even though I can't use my powers, I think it's great not to be fully human because Sam can no longer forbid me from eating Cookie Crisp." Of course, there are other perks to that, like, not dying from systemic failure, but that's not the point right now. "You on the other hand—"

"—yes please—"

"—probably shouldn't because your teeth  _ might _ rot from it," Jack continues, but despite his words, he pulls out two bowls from the cabinet.

"My teeth are all fixed, shiny and lucky-charmed again," Dean says, turning around just to show off his teeth in a wide grin.

"I suppose you're right." Jack shrugs and scoops everything into his arms to carry it to the table.

He's heard the story of Sam and Dean's couple terribly unlucky days. As they tend to, neither spared any details about every painful or embarrassing thing the other one went through. Talking of Sam's clumsiness, Dean could barely get out the words through his laughter that brought tears to his eyes. It made Jack kinda wish he was there to see it. But back then, away from home and focused on the task Billie gave him, he didn't think he would ever sit around the table with the Winchesters and laugh like that.

Especially with Dean.

He sits down opposite of Dean who closes the laptop and sets it aside while Jack pours the cereal and milk into his bowl. Cookie Crisp tastes as good as Jack remembered it—he hasn't had it since before he died the second time because there were never any in the Bunker, until today.

Right, today.

"Where are Cas and Sam?"

"Helping Jody with a job."

Jack narrows his eyes at Dean. "Without you?"

It's pretty unusual for Sam and Dean to split. It's even more unusual for Sam to go on a hunt with Cas. Jack's pretty sure he heard Dean grumbling something about Sam and Cas being a disaster duo when they're left together unsupervised.

"I think three of them can handle a simple job without me," Dean says and shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Jack does the same, mainly to hide his disappointment. He did expect they might be leaving for a hunt because that's what hunters do, but he hoped, at least, they'd go fighting monsters together, all four of them, like they used to.

The thing is, back then, their arch-enemy wasn't God whom Jack was destined to kill, the one he has to hide from, for now. Is Jack the reason Dean stayed behind? So that he's not left alone?

"But," Dean starts before Jack gets to voice his concern, "we have a job too."

Jack perks up at that. "A hunt?"

"Yes," Dean says, then, "No," then, "I don't know, actually. Maybe."

"I think those were all possible answers," Jack points out.

"I found something, but it's probably not a hunt." Dean's hand reaches for the laptop, but then he decides against it. "It's a few towns over so I thought it's worth checking out."

"Better safe than sorry." Jack nods solemnly and pushes away his empty bowl. "Sounds good."

"Alright, go get dressed, I'll take care of this," Dean says, picking up the dishes.

Jack springs off the chair and heads for the bathroom.

Maybe today isn't gonna be that bad if he gets to go probably-not-hunting with Dean. He missed it: hunting, and Dean treating him like he used to, even though Jack didn't deserve it for what he did to Mary. But things have been better since he got his soul back, since he begged for forgiveness and truly meant it. Since he finally could feel the remorse, the guilt, the grief, of killing Mary, of  _ losing  _ Mary.

It hurts. But he'd much rather hurt than feel nothing at all.

Jack taps the replay button and brings Dean's phone closer to his face. He skips through the parts where a blonde woman, Joan, is talking about something haunting her home, her voice excited rather than terrified as one would expect from a civilian with a ghost problem. He already knows what she'd say: it started a week ago, with books falling off the shelves on their own, then escalated into furniture forming constructions that reach the ceiling, all on its own.

Except, aside from a few chairs beginning to slide across the floor, not much got recorded, due to, supposedly, ghastly interference that covers the screen with white noise before the interesting part begins. Once the video is back on, a coffee table and chairs are stacked on top of each other on the sturdy kitchen table.

Dean said he was ninety percent sure the video was fake and made for attention and internet fame. He said real ghosts don't behave like that and that the woman watched too many horror movies. Then he handed Jack his phone and told him to watch it before leaving the car to fuel it up.

Joan's back in front of the camera, talking, and Jack's about to shut the video down when the phone vibrates between his fingers and Cas's name appears on the screen.

Jack's thumb reaches to accept the call, but he hesitates. It's not his phone, it's not him whom Cas is calling and he knows Dean wouldn't appreciate it. But it's Cas and he might be in trouble, something might have gone wrong on the hunt, or maybe Chuck showed up and—

"Hi, Cas," Jack says, pressing the phone to his ear. For a moment, there's silence on the other end and Jack's not sure whether Cas didn't hear him or for some reason can't reply. "Cas?"

"Jack," comes at last, surprise clear in Cas's voice. Of course, he expected to hear Dean. It's Dean's number he called, after all. "Where's Dean?"

"He went inside to pay for gas," Jack says, watching Dean's back through the windows. "Did something happen?"

"No."

Jack waits for Cas to elaborate, but when that doesn't come, he takes it as his cue to talk. Dean should be done in a minute or two, they might as well stay on line until then.

"Have you solved the case yet?"

"The case— No, we haven't."

"Oh," Jack lets out. "Dean said you left very early, so you've met with Jody already. I thought maybe you had."

"No, we, uh— we have to interview people, first," Cas says, slowly, as if preoccupied. Or maybe just hesitant. He's never been a big fan of that part of the job.

"Well, you've got Sam and Jody so it'll go well," Jack says to cheer him up. "Together it shouldn't take you too long to find and kill whatever this thing is. And in the evening we can all relax and, uh, grab a beer and—"

There's a tone of a finished call in the speaker and then silence on Cas's side. Jack narrows his eyes at the screen, now again displaying only the face of the woman he and Dean will soon be talking to.

Jack put the phone away on the dashboard, his shoulders slump. Jack might not have the biggest experience with non-verbal clues, but that he got. Cas preferred to cut the call short to telling him they won't be drinking any beers or relaxing together tonight. Maybe Jack shouldn't have pushed, then at least they would have talked on the phone.

With his temple pressed to the window and eyes fixed on the gray asphalt, Jack doesn't notice Dean's return until the door squeaks open.

"Alright, the tank is full, we can go," Dean says, slipping into his seat. "And, the kid working the register turned out to be a friend of our Poltergeist girl. Says she's legit, but, you know— But, he also set us up for an interview with her, so we're officially a couple of journalists from the Paranormal Press."

"That's good," Jack mutters, not looking up at Dean. "Cas called."

Dean stops mid-movement with the key in the ignition.

"Yeah? What did he say?"

"Nothing. He wasn't expecting me," Jack says, glad Dean doesn't seem to mind he answered the call. "He was being kinda weird."

"Weird?" Dean says, smirking. "You sure he wasn't just being Cas?"

Jack shakes his head but answers, "Maybe."

Dean's eyes linger on Jack for a little longer and Jack wishes he could be better at hiding how crappy he feels because, really, he knew since morning how today was gonna go. But after all, disappointment is one of those things that come with a soul and he needs to remind himself that it's important that he gets to feel that as well, even if it's unpleasant.

Maybe it's good to share it, too.

"I don't think they're gonna come back home today," Jack says quietly, as the engine roars.

"They're called things that go bump in the  _ night." _

Jack only nods to that and straightens himself up in the seat. He's not gonna mop around like a little kid just because he's three years old.

Dean huffs out a laugh and Jack darts his eyes at him to see if he's laughing at him, but he doesn't seem to. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, pulls out a candy bar in a brown wrapper and drops it on Jack's lap.

Nutty Cream, Jack's favorite; all nougat goodness and caramel covered in chocolate.

He scoops the candy and raises an eyebrow at Dean.

"Happy Birthday, kid," Dean says. "You didn't think I forgot, did you?"

Jack can't hold back a smile that blooms on his face. It's ridiculous that such a small thing makes him this happy, but a candy bar from a gas station feels like the most Winchester gift he could get.

"I was beginning to think you did," Jack says, pulling the wrapper apart. "Which would be fine, you know. I wonder if Cas did and that's why—"

"Jack," Dean, cuts him off. "No one's forgetting your birthday." As he turns his head left to check the traffic before entering it, more somberly, he adds a muttered, "Kinda hard to forget."

Jack turns his eyes away, to the rows of houses they pass on their way, slowly chewing a piece of nougat in his mouth.

Of course, it's hard to forget. The night he was born, so many things went wrong. He brought nothing but death and loss. His mother, Castiel. Mary and Michael's world and all that followed.

He takes a deep breath.

"Sometimes I wish I was born normal," he says, quietly. "I know I made the only choice I could, but I wish I could—"

"Well, you couldn't and you didn't," Dean says, eyes on the road ahead. But there doesn't seem to be anger or sadness in his voice. "Besides, if Cas were to babysit you like he planned to, you wouldn't survive a month." Then with a quick glance, Dean shoots Jack a smirk. "He would have cuddled you to death."

They don't try holding back laughter that drowns out even the engine's purr and for a while, everything is good in a way things seldom are in Jack's life, in the Winchesters' lives.

"I think it's here," Dean says, pulling over by one of the houses. He pulls out a notepad and a pen from the glove compartment and hands them to Jack. "I talk, you write everything down."

"What for? You said it's a fake—"

"Because we're journalists," Dean says, rolling his eyes, and leaves the car.

Jack follows right behind him, until they reach the door. Before Dean can ring the doorbell, there's a loud bang coming from the inside and the door opens violently.

The woman from the video slams into Dean, cowering under his arm he raises instinctively.

"I'm so glad you're here!" she wheezes out. "Please tell me you know what to do!"

"What to do with what?" Jack asks, and as on a cue, something smashes into the doorframe, pieces of porcelain scattering around them.

"I think I made it angry!" she shrieks.

Dean reaches in for the doorknob and yanks the door closed just in time to shield the three of them from another object that hits them with a loud thud.

"You think?"

"Well," Jack says, following Dean and Joan back to the car. "Guess it's a case after all."

Jack picks at his fingernail, trying to dig out the graveyard dirt that nested itself deep beneath it. It's been pestering him the whole way back home. Frankly, he can't wait to hop into a shower and wash all the dust and splinters off.

He can't say he envies Joan, cleaning of the mess the ghost made in its fury. And they managed to track it down and send off it quite quickly, in a matter of just a few hours. Normally, they'd wait until nightfall with digging up the grave. But Dean insisted they go right away, even though all three of them were safe from the ghost that couldn't leave the house. The old cemetery was secluded enough to let them dig undetected.

Another thing annoying Jack, right now, is the buzzing of Dean's phone going on and off for good ten minutes, and which Dean keep ignoring. The display screen shows Cas's name.

"Alright, then, I'll pick it up," Jack says, reaching for the phone, but Dean snatches it before him. "Could be important."

"I talked to him an hour ago, all's fine."

Jack doesn't argue, although he's not sure he'd describe their last phone call as  _ talking. _ Dean stopped the car and left to exchange a few sentences and report back to Jack that the job is done and Sam and Cas will be staying with Jody.

"He probably misses us, then," Jack jokes and gains an approving smirk.

"He knows we're heading to the bunker," Dean says, taking a turn into more familiar landscapes. Soon Jack recognizes the road that they're on, the one leaving straight to Lebanon. "You two should talk once we get there."

"I'll call him as soon as we're home," Jack decides, watching the buildings of Lebanon pop up on the horizon.

They don't talk much the rest of the way and even Dean's phone remains silent. Dean stops the car in front of the main entry, but before they go in, Jack stops him.

"I had a lot of fun today," he says simply. "As far as my birthdays go, definitely the best one yet."

Dean lets out a chuckle. "Luckily for me, the bar was pretty low but I'm glad I didn't sink it any farther."

Jack shoots Dean a wide smile and reaches for the door.

"And the day isn't over yet!" he says, descending into the unlit stairway. "Are there any movies one traditionally watches on birthday? Something like Die Hard but for birthday?"

"I don't know, Sixteen Candles?" Dean says. "Or Thirteen Going Thir—"

"Quiet," Jack says, holding one arm back to stop Dean.

He should have noticed it sooner. There's someone in the bunker, just ahead of them in the darkness. Hiding. Not just someone, multiple people. In the quiet of the bunker, he can hear their hushed breaths.

"We're not alone," he whispers to Dean, not taking his eyes off the shadows ahead.

He reaches into his pocket, wishing he had some sort of a weapon on him, an angel blade or a gun, but all he's got is a pen.

"Easy, tiger," Dean says, out loud and yanking the pen out of Jack's grasp, while he's too surprised with Dean's reaction to stop him. "You're not killing anyone with a pen."

"Dean—"

"Come out, guys, slowly, before he blasts us all to hell," Dean calls out, quieter adds, "And brings Chuck on our heads while at it."

As on cue, the lights turn on in the room.

Before them, around the map table that is now covered with a cloth and topped with bowls of food, faces poke out from behind the chairs. They're familiar faces, with patterned paper horn-hats strapped on their heads. There are Cas and Sam, standing awkwardly right ahead and Kaia with a blonde girl that Jack figures must be Claire, to the side.

Jody's there, too, coming towards him with a round cake in her hands. Three candles burning on top of it.

"Well, surprise," Dean says, behind him, with a mixture of amusement and annoyance in his voice. "I told them it wasn't a good idea to try to get a jump on you."

"Surprise," echoes everyone else and Cas blows into a paper tube that rolls out, making an awful, high-pitched sound.

"What is going on?" Jack asks, his eyes drifting from Cas to Sam and to Dean and back.

"It's your birthday party," Sam says, spreading his arms out. In support of his words, above his head, there's a banner of colorful letters that spells out 'Happy Birthday, Jack'.

Oh. Birthday, right. In the whole confusion preceded by his readiness to fight for his family and his home under a siege, or what seemed like it, he nearly forgot about it.

And now his family is here and some of the few friends they've got left, all staring at him as they burst into a song. It feels weird and awkward to be in the center of attention and for a moment, Jack thinks he preferred to sit with Dean in the Impala as they drove towards an adventure.

But once the candles are blown out, the tension eases.

"Alright, hurry up, the food is getting cold because  _ someone—" _ Jody looks pointedly at Dean "—couldn't get the Birthday Boy here on time."

"Hey, I'm not the one who can't find a fake case that's actually fake," Dean retorts.

Sam shrugs. "That's not what my job is."

Jack's attention's pulled away from the quibbing when Kaia comes up to him with Claire. She looks much better than the last time he's seen her and her own clothes fit her much better than his, too.

"So," Claire starts with her arms crossed on her chest, "you're the guy who got my girl killed and stuck in the nightmare-land, huh?"

Jack opens his mouth and closes it, not sure how to respond to the hostility. Deserved, but still surprising. He looks at Kaia, who's tugging at Claire's sleeve with a small smile.

"Yes, I suppose that's me," he admits. "Mostly."

He's not sure what to expect now, but it's not Claire's arms wrapped around him.

"Thank you for bringing her back," she says before pulling away.

Jack smiles. "I'm glad it worked, too."

He receives birthday wishes and gifts from them and from Jody before getting to Sam, Cas, and Dean who joined them in the meantime.

"I hope you like it," Sam says. "The party. Jody offered to help and, frankly, we figured we could all use some fun right now."

"Yes, it's very nice," Jack says, looking around. "The food smells amazing, and you are all here. That's all I need."

"Great." Sam pulls him into a tight hug. "Happy Birthday, Jack."

Cas follows suit and hands him a box with a bow which Jack sets aside.

"One thing I don't get," Jack says before they split to finally get to eating. "You've been avoiding me and lying to me all day just to make this a surprise—is that what usually happens on birthdays?"

"Nah," Dean says, probably saving Sam and Cas, judging by their distressed expressions. He puts a heavy hand on Jack's shoulder as he moves past him. "Usually the decoy isn't this fun."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always very much appreciated!
> 
> Find this story on [tumblr](https://deansmultitudes.tumblr.com/post/618445164508282880/third-times-a-charm-jack-dean-bday-fluff)


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